


Body You Could Write A Song About

by ignoble



Category: One Direction
Genre: Anorexia, Depression, Self-help, Slow Burn, Slow Updates, Suicidal Thoughts, Top!Harry, bottom!Louis, but only slightly - Freeform, triggering, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:46:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignoble/pseuds/ignoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in a long time, Louis finally felt full. Full of hope, full of love, full of everything and anything tied to Harry... And he wondered if that would destroy him.</p><p>Or an AU where Louis is anorexic and his stomach is always empty until he meets Harry, who fills it with butterflies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever Larry fic, so don't judge. I don't know when I'll update, but it will be pretty often and yeah, kudos and comments and such are much appreciated:)

Ten o'clock a.m. That's what the digital alarm clock reads on his bedside table, but he chooses to ignore it. He knows he's two-and-a-half hours late to his first therapy session, but he doesn't seem to care; hasn't cared at all for awhile. Louis' stomach growls, a monstrous sound, really, and he chooses to ignore that, too, because he knows that if he'll eat, he won't be able to stop and his thighs are looking a bit too thick today if he's being quite honest. 

You see, Louis hates himself; he hates his fat thighs and his even fatter ass. He hates the little flab of fat right above his groin, his love handles being particularly unbearable. But this is why he goes to therapy, or should go, but he really doesn't try: nothing will stop him from thinking the way he does, no shrink will be able to pull the sick thoughts out of his head and keep them away. None of this should even be a big deal, just looking at him disgusts him and he knows others feel the same, he can see it in the way that they move a bit further away from him that is necessary when jogging down the street, or the weird glances he gets at the gym when he comes in with his baggiest joggers to hide the thick thighs weighing him down every single moment of every single day. He just knows, no need to tell him, he's a smart kid and he had figured it out.

He decides to call into his therapist's office, asking to reschedule his appointment at ten eighteen a.m, but lucky him, the therapist seems to be free. All. Day. And insists that Louis comes and visits him immediately. Louis politely declines, pretending to care whether or not he gets a day off, he just really doesn't want to go, but then Dr. Murphy (but you can call him John) begs for him to come in, saying he wants an update on his week and just wants to see if he's okay. 

Louis thinks that he will never be okay.

Louis caves, saying he'll be down in an hour, tops. He will show up, he swears on it, but it might take a bit more than an hour to stand, face the mirror, cringe at the image, wash the horrible thoughts away (only for new ones to form right after they are seemingly forgotten), pull out the boxer briefs that accentuate his flabby ass, the clothes that cover up his horrible fat, and drive twenty-seven minutes to the Murphy, Quincy, Fox Building. 

He is right, it took him an hour and seventeen minutes, not bad, he thinks. His jeans drag the ground a bit, but it's nothing compared to the way his stomach weighs him down more and more everyday, even when he purged up everything he eats at timely intervals.

"Hey, Louis, nice to see you back." John grins that too perfect grin, his pearly white teeth showing in an straight array. John is always so perky for being a guy who listens to stories like Louis' all day, but he finds that helping the person through it is a good way of forgetting they even had the problem in the first place.

Maybe John is as messed up as everyone else. 

"Hi. Sorry I didn't make the first one, had a late night." Louis lies through the skin of his teeth. He went to bed at precisely nine-sixteen p.m, falling asleep to the sounds of Gordon Ramsay cursing at the people running wildly around the Hell's Kitchen kitchen. He sits down in one of the two brown leather upholstered furniture chairs, both reclining back so you can lay back while spilling your soul to some stranger. Louis loves it though and it's not like there's going to be any soul spilling today anyway, so he just enjoys it for now. Louis' not ready yet, he doesn't know when he'll ever be, but he's hoping that it will be soon.

"No problem, you're here now!" John exclaims, stretching his arms out to the very bland, very basic office. The walls are whitewashed and only decorated with his degrees, hanging like trophies...which I guess if you put it in perspective, they are kind of like trophies for him. The only other color in the room is his rich mahogany desk, the brilliant color of the wood standing out amazingly. It looks like its been freshly waxed, glad to know he's taking care of the beaut, Louis thinks, left side of his mouth quirking up in a half smile, half smirk, half grimace thing. John doesn't seem to notice, but he still drops it from his face faster than it was put on.

"Let's talk," John says, suggestive lilt to his statement, it almost being a question. Louis shrugs, dismissive and allows John to ask more questions. "How was your day, Mister Sleep-In-And-Miss-Very-Important-Therapy-Sessions?" John laughs at that, cutting off awkwardly when Louis doesn't follow.

This is going to be a long session.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it, it's the most I've written ever, so :) all criticism is good, so comment anything I need to work on and kudos and such are appreciated!

Louis returns home after his "grilling" from John.

Flashback

" Now, Louis, have you been keeping a regular diet?" John asks, because of course he knows that Louis isn't eating enough and of course it's his obligation to help Louis out in all aspects of his life. 

"Yes, actually... I have..." Kept a regular diet of f eating nothing, Louis thinks, but obviously he can't say that aloud, John might give him options.

Rehabilitation options, which Louis in no way, shape, or form is ready or willing to do.

John notices the little pauses he makes after every phrase, but chooses to let them settle in the dust; he knows that Louis will try and get better on his own (won't have it any other way) and when he does, he'll be there every step of the way. 

"That's great, what did you eat last night for dinner? I know this fabulous Italian bistro right around the corner that I think you'd love." John suggests.

Louis thinks John is the best therapist in the world, but right now he'd love it if John would stop hassling him about his stupid eating habits.

On the spot, Louis thinks of the last thing he ate, which comes to think of it, he can't really remember when he last ate, but one thing that's in his fridge at his flat is cheese and ravioli pasta.

"Cheese Ravioli." Louis plastered on his sweetest smile, rubbing his tummy over his belly because, mmmm, that does sound delicious, but of course, he can't let his cravings get the best of him. John returns his smile with an even brighter one, telling Louis that that is one of his favorite dishes before moving on to how Louis' day has been and so forth.

The moment John says times up, Louis storms out of there with not even a goodbye and goes to the nearest cafe. He orders a cup of crushed ice (it's his specialty) and heads home to chow down some ants on a log and almonds. 

Flashback Ends 

Louis is indeed snacking on almonds and crunching on his ice when he hears a thunderous knock from across the hall. Louis stumbles up out of his wooden wicker chair before going to see who the hell thinks it's okay to disturb the peace at a very pleasantly quiet living facility. When Louis reaches the door, he twists the lock and whips the door open (or opens it with enough force, but not as much as to knock himself over. What he sees is not what he expects.

Long, lean, and perfect is he. His back is to Louis, but he can already tell that this man is a decedent of Adonis or something.mThe gorgeous man pounds on the door across from his flat again, even more insistent than the last. Louis can't take anymore so he clears his throat so harshly that it startles the man in front of him and he spins around.

Louis' jaw drops.

His whole world kind of stopped turning and then started again, powered from the light beaming off of this random guy disturbing his snack. The curly haired man smiles, a slight smile, but still enough for his dimples to pop, one deeper than the other and Louis begins to rethink the whole "love at first sight" thing because he's sure he's in love or steps away from it.

"Oh, did I disturb you?" beautiful, gorgeous, bombshell says, smile still there, but faltering a little at seeing the way Louis is just staring. Like, staring a whole through his face, which is a little unsettling. Louis snaps out of his stance, getting ready to tell him off and then tell him to come and have his way with him, when the door behind beautiful, gorgeous, bombshell opens and he instantly recognizes the face that pops out through the crack of the door.

It's his really loud, obnoxious, but honestly quite funny neighbor Niall. His badly died blond head is stuck out, his face twisted in annoyance and tiredness (clearly, someone was still sleeping, like who the hell knocks on someone's door at 11:32am?).

"Fuck do you want, Harry!" Niall wails, his voice breaking due to just waking up.

Harry. His name is Harry. Louis thinks and he knows, just knows that Harry will be the thing that breaks him or makes him.

***

Louis doesn't see Harry until three days later, at the coffee shop he frequents sitting at a table with an equally beautiful male with dark, seemingly black, hair styled in a quiff. The sight makes Louis smile slightly, looking in his direction. He orders his special cup of crushed ice before the smell intoxicates him too much, his calorie intake is already too much from the low-fat bran muffin and regular yogurt (he didn't even try to lower it, he really needed something to fill him up for the time being). He tries to walk out of the café before being noticed, but the telltale words, "Hey, Louis!", has him turning slowly on the balls of his feet. He throws on his best smile before moving towards the table where the two gods are seated. Harry is dressed casually, a band tee (one he's never heard of) and snug black skinny jeans with some complementary, but ratty, boots. He looks absolutely stunning.

"Hey! Harry right?" Louis asks, trying to make small talk. Louis hadn't realized before that Harry's voice is a rich, deep, lovely sound. It also has a roughness to it... Kind of like he drinks gravel smoothies daily. The other man looks up at Louis and doesn't seem to notice his hideous fat right away so he takes that as a plus. He smiles gently, his tan skin stretching to form his smile. God, he needs to get buddy buddy with Niall, like, why does he know so many attractive men? Louis thinks. 

"Yeah," Harry's smile seems to brighten at the thought of Louis remembering his name and not that makes Louis warm and fuzzy."Umm, this is my friend, Zayn, who's also friends with Niall. Zayn, this is Niall's neighbor, Louis?" Harry gestures toward said Zayn, looking up hopefully at Louis, making sure he got his name right. Louis nods proudly and shakes Zayn's outstretched hand with a nice to meet you and a head nod.

Harry offers Louis a seat, but he reclines respectfully, making an excuse of needing to get home to feed his cat. Harry insists, saying the cat can wait, and man Louis didn't take Harry for an animal abuser... Even if it is a made up cat. Louis shakes his head, but before he can even turn his head to the left, there is a chair pulled up and Harry is forcing him (but not really, Louis is just a drama queen) down in a chair and waving someone over, most likely a waiter.

"What would you like? They have amazing cappuccinos and their crepes are just to die for." Harry exclaims, his smile turning more and more enthusiastic, which is kinda scary, but Louis also thinks it's endearing.

Wow, he's whipped before he even knows his last name.

"I don't want anything, just ate a rather long lunch." It seems like everything that comes out of Louis' mouth these days are lies. The waiter arrives and Harry orders Louis a chocolate chip crepe and a French vanilla cappuccino. Louis is sitting to the side of the table, Zayn and Harry sitting across from each other. Zayn keeps sneaking glances at him, mouthing his name a few times before a waft of recognition hits him and he smiles, no, more like smirks in Harry's direction.

"Hey, mate, I got to go, but see you later." Zayn abruptly gets up, shouldering the leather jacket that was previously hanging off the black swivel cafe chair, sending Harry a smirk and suggestive eyes, and Louis doesn't really know what that means, but he ignores it like he ignores everything else. He sends Louis a wave before exiting the café.

"You know, you didn't have to order that, I won't eat it." Louis says a bit harshly and Harry jumps at his tone, eyes furrowing in confusion. Louis smiles reassuringly, though, doesn't want poor Harry to think he's a nut job.

"Just wanted to do something nice, and besides, I think I could like you." 

And those words had more weight on Louis than Louis had on himself.

"I think I could like you, too." 

They continue their chatter, Louis learning that Harry is 26 to Louis' 28 and he is a photographer teacher at the Uni up North. He also knows that Harry has been friends with Niall since primary school, when Niall moved down from Ireland. The conversation is mostly Harry, but Louis definitely has no problem with that, even encouraging him to go on when Harry injects him into conversation or briefly answers questions to get him talking again.

Louis hides the pieces of the muffin he's been pretending to eat in front of him in a napkin behind the muffin, masking it from Harry's sight. Harry doesn't seem to notice, too engulfed with Louis' thin (yet kissable) lips rather than what goes in them and that makes Louis blush, his face positively a lush pink. 

Harry smiles more and more that day and Louis can't help but smile back and to be quite honest Louis doesn't ever remember laughing so hard with anyone let alone a stranger telling the corniest knock knock jokes. 

And, yeah, Louis might be falling.

Slowly, but surely. 

Louis positively knows that Harry is going to break him


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a late update... Had major writers block. Hope you enjoy!

Entering his homey flat, Harry thinks a lot of things. None of which have to do with the impending final that he knows he needs to get on in order for the kids to actually have one. Neither does he think about how he needs to do a bit of cleaning up in his flat for the exterminator/overall inspection. He doesn't even think about the job he has tomorrow night at an office party banquet, which is supposed to be enough to pay his light bill (which is due to today).

Harry thinks Louis is strange.

Harry thinks Louis is beautiful.

Harry thinks that if he isn't careful, he could fall completely and irrevocably in love with Louis.

And Zayn kind of thinks Louis is a druggie.

"What?!?!?!" Harry exclaims, flabbergasted. He doesn't know whether he should be angry with Zayn, laugh in his face, or just simply laugh at the idea of Louis being a drug addict.

"Mate, I know you noticed the way he was fidgeting about with his hands... And the way he didn't want to spend money, like, who goes to a café and orders a plain cup of ice?" Zayn asks, eyebrows raised like his question wasn't rhetorical and Harry needs to answer pronto, but what does he even say? He is 100 percent sure that Louis is not a drug addict.

Well, now that Zayn brings it up, it is kind of odd how he didn't want to spend money. And he did look a bit sickly, but that could be from anything: fatigue, the flu, and the tiny thought that crawls into his mind, drug addiction. 

No.

He won't believe this preposterous idea until he sees it. Until he sees Louis snorting something up his nose or shooting drugs through his veins. 

"Anyone is allowed to buy anything on that café’s menu, Zayn, stop being cynical." Harry reasons, but little conviction is in the statement. Zayn notices it, too, but thankfully doesn't say anything, which Harry is grateful for.

"Alright, mate, you're absolutely right. Anyway, Louis is the cute, fit neighbor you were talking about, huh?" Zayn inquires with a tiny smirk, maybe more wistful than mischievous.

Harry hates him for it.

Harry is beyond blushing, face a bright, lovely pink. He knows that Zayn knew who he was the second he came and introduced himself, describing him in the most accurate way possible, “angelic, thin, brilliant bum.” What Harry doesn't know is why Zayn is taunting him like this.

“Of course he is, don't be thick.” He answers, pout taking up the bottom half of his face. Harry just hates when he gets taunted, especially about something he cares about. Some call it possessive, he calls it passionate. 

By the look on Zayn’s face, Harry assumes that he likes Louis, but he's highly skeptical with the whole drug addict thing.

“He's nice… I like him. He’d be good for you, y’know?”

And Harry likes him, too. Thinks he could be good for Louis as well.

“Yeah.” Harry replies, with these hideous dreamy boy eyes that make Zayn want to gag (which he inevitably does, and pretends to get sick on harry’s very expensive carpet). 

“So is this how it's going to be now? You doing disgusting lovebird shit, pining over him until he one day returns your love?” Zayn responded, dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes in a stunning, yet over-the-top, interpretation of a fainting damsel in distress. He peeks his head out from one of his arms and winks at Harry's not so impressed expression.

Harry ends up ignoring him, getting up to through his dirty clothes in their appropriate hampers before taking them to his car so he can wash later. He continued his cleaning, which Zayn inescapably got pulled into, having dusted every surface of the place and vacuuming said expensive rug.

“I hate coming here, you always have somebody doing hard labor.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and Zayn swiftly throws his winded riddled towel at Harry's face.

“What the fudge, you could've just killed me!” Before he could utter the words, though, Zayn was bursting with laughter, repeating ‘what the fudge’ until he was panting for breath. 

Harry hoped he would pass out for shaming him.

Harry eventually forces Zayn out of his newly clean flat and finishes thinking about all of the things he would like to do for (and to) Louis.

*** 

Harry is invited to Niall’s place for some tea. This excites him to no end.

Louis.

He hasn't seen him in eight days and he's been dying inside ever since their last encounter. He really wanted to give him his phone number, but he didn't know if Louis was that interested in him. 

It takes Harry 12 minutes flat to get to Niall's apartment building. His chest is burning with anxiety. He's never felt like this for anybody ever in his life and he's sort of scared. He walks nervously (and loudly) down the hall that holds both Niall and Louis’s apartment. He knocks on the door, the signature knock that alerts Niall that it's just Harry. Niall opens the door, cheery smile on his face.

“Hey, Harry, what's up? Come in!” Niall exclaims in his Irish drawl.

“Nothing much, just here for the tea.” Harry smiles. Niall opens the door enough to let Harry in. 

“Did you bring the sugar?” And Harry freezes immediately.

“Sugar? I was unaware of the absence of sugar in your residence.” 

“Yeah, I know, but you have to get some if you want it.”

Harry groans and rolls his eyes. “I can't believe you invited me ov-.” And before he can finish the sentence there is an assertive knock on the door. Niall turns abruptly to open it and Harry’s heart hurts, stops and beats faster in the span of two seconds because Louis is at   
the door.


End file.
